Whumptober 2019- Recovery
by Frankie McStein
Summary: Magnum wasn't a man who angered quickly, preferring to talk through problems. But this wasn't a problem, this was a challenge. And he was going to find the person behind it. And he was going to make them pay.


The ambush, when it came, was a hurried and brutal thing. The men hadn't been told they needed to take both Magnum and Higgins alive, and they had no interest in hauling two bodies around when they figured one would do. Magnum was the investigator, so he was the one they were focused on capturing. Two of them converged on him, one brandishing a stun gun, while the third threw a left hook at Higgins that she only just managed to duck. She was forced to back up again as he swung the knife he was wielding in his right hand in a wide arc.

Magnum tried to keep an eye on her, but the two men attacking him were well-trained and obviously used to working together. The shorter of the two kept jabbing the stun gun forward, and, by the time Magnum realized he was being herded backward, the second guy was behind him and swinging a cosh. Magnum only managed to avoid it by throwing himself forward, right into the arms of the stun-gun-waving pain in the neck. Luckily for Magnum, his opponents hadn't expected him to make such a stupid, desperate move, and the weapon was already pointing at the floor in anticipation of the end of the fight. Which gave him time to land a swift jab in Shorty's stomach and shove him to the ground.

Magnum jumped over the gasping man, feeling a rush of wind that told him he had very nearly been knocked out by the cosh's second swing. He spun as he landed, hands out in a defensive pose, and heard yelling from across the street. The man approaching him got a worried look on his face; clearly they hadn't expected any resistance and certainly hadn't planned on being observed. The thought that these guys weren't as professional as they appeared was almost insulting - sending amateurs to pick up a SEAL and an ex-spy? Really? - but Magnum didn't dwell on it. He let his eyes flick over to find Higgins and was both impressed and unsurprised to find her holding the knife with blood on her hands. Her attacker was stepping back from her and, as someone yelled, "I'm calling the cops!" turned away from her.

"Move it, you idiots!" he shouted. That wasn't great. Magnum had no intention of letting these guys run off to attack some less capable people at a later date. He stepped forward and dealt with the still coughing Shorty by simply kicking him in the side of the head. It was a slightly brutal method, but it worked, the man slumping flat to the ground, and it left Magnum free to take on the cosh-swinger.

Higgins had obviously had the same idea. As Magnum fell with Cosh-Guy tangled up in his grip, he caught a glimpse of her, knife held low, lunging forward. Magnum stretched his neck to avoid the flailing hands of Cosh-Guy and pressed a little harder on the guy's throat. A choke hold was risky, but Magnum was experienced enough to be pretty sure he wasn't going to crush the man's windpipe. As Cosh-Guy gurgled and started to sag, Magnum risked a proper look over at Higgins, encouraged by a quiet, choking sort of cry that was too deep to have come from her.

Sure enough, her guy was on his knees and falling slowly sideways, like a time lapse of a flower wilting. His entire body was tense and, at first, Magnum couldn't figure out what she had done to incapacitate him. And then he realized both the guy's hands were between his legs and his hips were tucked tightly beneath his arched back. Some small part of Magnum wanted to wince - he knew that pain from a poorly refereed game of football - but Higgins dropped heavily to her knees, and he was too worried about her to care about the private parts of a part-time mercenary.

He gave one last tug backward on his own arm and felt the body he was holding go totally limp, then gave a solid shove and let Cosh-Guy crash to the ground. Magnum scrambled to his feet and ran the dozen steps to Higgins' side.

"What is it?" he asked quickly, trying to check her for injuries without actually touching her, afraid of hurting her. She gave a huff, and he was relieved to note it was her 'I'm mildly peeved' huff rather than her 'I'm in pain and trying to decide if I need to admit it' one.

"He got in a lucky swing before I took the knife. I don't think it's too deep. I felt the blade scrape a rib." Her voice was tense, and Magnum kept his hand on her shoulder as he straightened up and looked over at the small crowd that had gathered across the street.

"I called nine-one-one," a young woman called over to him, and he gave her a grateful smile before turning back to Higgins.

"Hear that? Ambulance'll be here soon, and you can spend the night upsetting nurses." He felt her laugh and felt the tension thrum through her as the movement pushed the pain level up. He crouched next to her, offering a hand, and she didn't hesitate to take it, squeezing hard as the pain built before finally fading.

The police arrived in a rush of sirens and flashing lights, and, for a second, it looked like they were going to arrest all five of them and sort it out later. But Shorty, recovering quickly when he opened his eyes to see a uniformed police officer staring down at him, started yelling about being an innocent victim. Everyone turned to take in the spectacle, and the officer who was taking Higgins' statement burst out laughing.

"Knock it off, Pele!" he yelled, almost rolling his eyes. "You haven't been innocent since the day you were born!" The other two were quickly identified by other officers as repeat offenders. When one let slip that the man who had tussled with Higgins was a known sexual predator, Magnum felt a chill rush through him as his mind started running through all the possible outcomes of their fight. He caught Higgins' eye as the EMT was pressing a piece of gauze over the long cut on her side, and she gave him a look that told him she knew exactly what he was thinking and that he should stop it.

She offered a smile as he shrugged at her; the whole 'admitting they each worried about the other' thing wasn't all that new, but the relationship they seemed to be getting closer to was still a fragile sort of vaguary. They had both noticed the undercurrent that was running beneath their arguments lately, but neither of them had figured out how to address it yet. Under normal circumstances, Magnum would have hidden his worry and then stressed about the what-ifs when he was out of her line of sight. But, now that they were moving closer and closer to being a 'thing,' he sort of felt like she should know when he was concerned.

...

They weren't held long at the hospital. Magnum was given a quick check over and then the all clear, which led to him hanging around outside the curtain while a nurse finished cleaning the cut running along Higgins side in one of the cubicles. She'd needed a few stitches in the deeper part of the wound, something she was unimpressed with. The quiet gasp of pain made Magnum move, almost instinctively, to open the curtain and go to Higgins, and he only stopped himself at the very last moment.

"You okay?" He could almost see her eye roll.

"Fine, thank you." Huh, she didn't sound annoyed. In fact, she sounded almost pleased. Pleased that he was waiting for her? Pleased that he was worried? He wondered if that meant she wouldn't mind if he moved beyond the curtain and spent a rather pleasant minute or so imagining a scenario where he did just that. He was pulled back to the real world by the swish of the curtain being opened, and he looked over to see Higgins adjusting the sleeve of her ruined top with a frown.

She gave a small smile as she caught him watching her before holding out a hand. "Help me down?"

It was his turn to smile; she was more than capable of simply stepping down from the bed. That didn't stop him from reaching out and taking her hand, savoring the feel of her fingers wrapping around his. He was starting to feel like maybe a long conversation wasn't necessary, like maybe they could just fall into a more personal relationship the same way they had fallen into their professional one. Some small, potentially suicidal, part of his brain wondered if he should just take the initiative, pull her close, say something devastatingly charming, and see what happened. He was stopped, possibly saved, by the appearance of a police officer.

The drive to the station wasn't long, but it was long enough to pull a wince from Higgins as she climbed out of the car, the painkillers she'd been given already wearing off. By the time they had both given their statements, neither of them was in the mood to do more than get home and relax. Which they did in their own bedrooms. Magnum still had the odd feeling that something more was on the very verge of happening but, for tonight, he was tired enough to leave that feeling well enough alone.

'_Plenty of time to figure something out tomorrow,'_ he told himself as he stretched out on the bed, replaying the events of the day in an idle sort of way. Ono, a former drug dealer turned wanna-be mob boss, had been arrested thanks to his three bully-boys all pointing the finger at him. So, not only was their client safe, but everyone else Ono had been threatening would be breathing easier tonight too. All in all, he decided as his eyes started to slip closed, not a bad day.

That feeling of peaceful satisfaction was still lingering when he woke up. Which was why, when Magnum got a call from an angry-sounding Shammy telling him someone had snatched Higgins from off the street outside of Island Hoppers, he was temporarily thrown off balance.

"_She was just going across the road for coffee, and this van came screaming up outta nowhere. I yelled, and she tried to fight, but…"_ Shammy trailed off but Magnum didn't need him to paint a picture of what had happened. He could see it as clearly as if he had been there. He could see the van mounting the curb, hear the sliding door as it was thrown open. He was pretty sure that, if he thought about it, he would be able to imagine a pretty fair representation of the moves Higgins would have used to try to get away too.

It took nearly a full three seconds for him to think of Ono and his criminal connections. His phone rang again as he was scrolling through his contacts, and he answered almost before he had time to read Katsumoto's name.

"_I'm assuming you've already heard about Higgins. I'm on my way over. I need to know about anyone the two of you have annoyed lately."_ He sounded tense, and Magnum didn't even think about trying to be funny.

"I'll start making a list," he promised. "But I think Ono needs to be at the top of it." He was relieved when Katsumoto agreed with him.

...

She knew she had been drugged. Somewhere deep down, she was furious about being grabbed off the street and knocked out and trussed up like a Christmas turkey, but she couldn't seem to feel the anger. Wherever she was, it was pitch dark and uncomfortably cold. There was a dampness to the air that had her thinking of coal mines, and she was trying to remember if Oahu was known for old mines but her thoughts were moving with agonising slowness.

"Don't bother fussing." The voice sounded like it was coming from a long way away. "You won't be leaving here alive, my dear. Not unless your charming man friend manages to find you."

She thought the voice, wherever it was coming from, was trying to be scary but she felt laughter bubbling up inside her. She wasn't sure which of her boys the stupid voice meant, but it didn't matter; they would find her. She clung to that thought as she felt her awareness sinking lower and lower, forced down by the syringe that had been driven into her arm.

She thought she saw a flash from somewhere far away, but she was too far gone to worry.

...

The atmosphere was tense, almost crackling with pent up energy and carefully quashed anger. Katsumoto had been gone for over a day, although he was staying true to his word and keeping Magnum informed of every step HPD was taking. His latest text had read '_Ono is being brought back to interrogation. I'll let you know what he says.'_

In appreciation, Magnum was holding himself to his word and not bursting into the police station or sniffing around Ono's known contacts. What he wasn't doing was staying out of the investigation altogether.

Rick had been on the phone almost constantly since Higgins had been taken, not only calling in favors but offering them up too. It didn't take long for word to spread that someone had done something seriously stupid and that Rick and his military buddies were on the warpath. People who had no reason to ever worry about drawing the trio's attention were quietly dropping out of sight, just in case, and at least one person had actually turned themselves in to the police in an attempt to stay clear of the three men. Even men tucked safely away in cells weren't immune; Rick wasn't the only one with dodgy contacts, and several guards had scratched their heads over the whispers they had heard about something called a 'Higgins.' Even Kumu had jumped in feet first, dragging various members of her extended family into the search.

When Magnum's phone went off and he saw 'Higgins' on the notification, he nearly dropped the damn thing before managing to pull up text. He had his mouth open to call out, ready to tell everyone Higgy had either gotten away or was telling them where to find her, when the picture he'd been sent loaded and the words froze in his throat.

"Thomas?" T.C. sounded concerned and Magnum was vaguely aware that the conversations that had been buzzing through the room for the better part of the day had suddenly stopped as everyone stared at him. But his eyes were fixed on the image.

Higgins looked to be unconscious and, in the harsh glare of the flash, seemed deathly pale. The shot was wide enough that he could see ropes tangled around her wrists, cutting into the skin. The ground beneath her looked like stone, and he found himself focusing on that, on the fact that whoever had her had dumped her on the floor like so much trash.

He stabbed at the screen and hit the phone icon with more force than was necessary; the robotic lady didn't get more than three words into her prerecorded greeting before he cut the call. Whoever was using Higgins' phone had turned it off again.

...

"Can you wake up?"

She frowned at the voice as she clawed her way through the foggy darkness that was enveloping her. Did she know that voice? Was it even talking to her? She tried to answer, just a word or two would do it, but her voice seemed to have dried up. She wasn't even sure her mouth was opening.

"That's it, keep fighting." Encouraging. It was encouraging.

Was she fighting? She must be, she could feel the exhaustion prickling in her muscles. But what was she fighting? Some sort of sentient gloom that wanted to drag her back down to its depths. Depths. The word stuck in her mind and looped over and again, and, for just a moment, she thought maybe she was in water. The panic that hit her had the darkness retreating, and her eyes flew open.

"Woah! Quit struggling!"

But she didn't. The adrenaline rush had cleared a little of the fog she had been mired in, and she remembered being grabbed off the street. She was being held; she didn't know where or why, and she needed to get away. Pain flared in her face and then a pressure, a tight burning pressure, circled her throat. She clawed at the rope that was squeezing tighter and tighter, but her hands weren't working properly; she was too weak to loosen it.

There was a flash, like a bolt of lightning, stinging her eyes even through the closed lids. And then she was gone.

...

HPD's tech team had done everything they could think of, but they hadn't been able to get any real information from the photo. The way the flash looked almost washed-out had them convinced it had been taken somewhere dark. The fact that the floor was clearly stone didn't help much; it could have been a walk-out basement or cave or garage or even just a fancy drawing room with the curtains closed.

Ono had sat smugly in the interrogation room and called for his lawyer who had then replied to every question with, "My client refuses to incriminate himself." While that meant Katsumoto couldn't do anything, it told Magnum that Ono absolutely was involved. Whereas before, investigating a protection racket on behalf of his client, Magnum had gotten as far as Ono and then stopped, now he was looking into every aspect of the man.

Anyone who had ever had anything to do with Ono was fair game as far as Magnum was concerned, and Rick and T.C. were right there with him. Between them, they had managed to discount several of the man's contacts and allies and were on their way to see Ono's previous lawyer's secretary when Magnum's cell buzzed. He tugged it from his pocket, expecting to see a message from Katsumoto. Instead, he saw a new text from Higgins and he stopped mid-stride.

He took a breath, trying to steady himself without being obvious; he still hadn't said anything about the increasingly fond feelings he had for Higgins and wasn't ready to field questions about an out-of-character reaction to whatever he was about to see. This time, the picture was closer, he couldn't see Higgins' wrists to see if they were still tied. What he could see was a split in her lip, a smear of blood across her chin, and a rope wrapped tightly around her throat. His grip tightened on the phone until he thought he could hear the plastic creaking, but he couldn't get his hand to relax.

T.C. was calling Katsumoto, telling him about the new photo. Rick had his hand on Magnum's shoulder and was telling him it was going to be fine.

Magnum felt his jaw tense as his teeth ground against each other. "We need to find her," he said through gritted teeth.

"We will, brother. We're getting her back."

Magnum didn't even care that his friends were looking at him as if they were having a revelation; if they had figured out that he cared for Higgy, so be it.

...

Breathing was painful. She tried to figure out why but her brain seemed to be wrapped in concrete. The pain seemed to be pulsing, like a living, breathing creature. First her throat and then her chest. Throat. Chest. Throat. Chest. She couldn't seem to anticipate it, and it kept stealing what little breath she could draw in. There was a tugging sensation, something pulling on her skin, then a wash of pain that made her want to yell. She thought she maybe managed a small whimper.

"Enough noise."

She'd heard that voice before but… It was no good. She couldn't remember where or when. Nothing seemed to be making much sense, and it scared her. She fought to open her eyes, desperate to know where she was, who was with her. She didn't even realise she was trying to cry out, although she felt the pain growing in her throat, joining the throbbing ache that was burning low in her chest. A chill swept through her, making her muscles twist beneath her skin, and the agony was white-hot, flashing through every nerve.

"I said that's enough!" The harsh words came with a sudden, overwhelming jolt of pain and a forceful blow that snapped her head to the side.

The pain in her head, her throat, her chest, it all seemed to merge suddenly and spread through her entire body. She didn't feel the pinch in her arm, but she felt the chemicals flooding her system and was almost relieved when she started to spiral down into the cool darkness.

She didn't even notice the flash of light that chased her consciousness down.

...

Katsumoto had taken Magnum's cell and was refusing to give it back. His argument was that the tech team needed unfettered access, and Magnum couldn't deny that it made sense. But he was pretty sure the detective was trying to prevent him from seeing the next picture. Because he knew there would be more. The first day Higgins was missing, there had been an unbearable silence. But, after getting a photo on the second and third days, and this being the fourth day, he knew his phone would be vibrating soon. Magnum knew his friends were worried he would be driven to some stupid desperate measure, and he wasn't sure he could blame them.

The sharp 'zzzt' of his cell made him jump, and he forced himself not to move as Katsumoto reached for his phone, opened the text, and stared at the screen. Seconds ticked by with a sort of heavy slowness before Magnum was waved over.

"It's…" Katsumoto breathed out heavily. "It's not pretty, Magnum," he warned, but nothing could have stopped Magnum from looking.

Higgins' eyes were still closed, like in the previous pictures. He was pretty sure at this point she was being drugged. There was a line of bruising around her neck, livid and angry even in the dim colors of the picture. Bruises were forming on her face; he was expecting the one on her jaw, but the one around her right eye was new. The worst was the blood. This time, the camera had been held further away, her body visible down to her waist. So he could see that her shirt was open, and blood was running down her side.

The dressing had been ripped off the knife wound on her side, and the red skin around the edges of the cut told him ripped was the right word. The handful of stitches she'd been given had been pulled out too, and he felt a phantom pain in his own side as he imagined how she must have felt.

He wasn't sure if it was Rick or T.C. who was talking to him, the words settling somewhere just beyond the rush that was flooding his ears. He knew that the whole point of the pictures was to distract him from the case against Ono, and he was annoyed with himself for letting the tactic work. But running alongside the annoyance was a deep, burning fury, directed at the monster who had taken his Juliet. Magnum wasn't a man who angered quickly, preferring to talk through problems. But this wasn't a problem, this was a challenge. And he was going to find the person behind it. And he was going to make them pay.

...

She didn't feel the first blow. Or the second. When the third jolted her back into some semblance of consciousness, she thought she saw Magnum standing over her. She tried to call out to him, but she blinked and he vanished.

"He's not coming for you. No one is coming for you. You're going to stay here with me until all that's left of you is dust and bones."

She wanted to rally against the evil voice. She wanted to tell it that it was wrong, that her boys weren't going to give up on finding her. But she couldn't seem to remember how to talk.

She was distracted by pressure on her leg, and she tried instinctively to flinch away. But she couldn't figure out how to make her muscles cooperate. Her entire world seemed to have shrunk down to darkness and pain and an odd feeling that she was moving too slowly, that she was out of sync with the world around her.

The pressure had moved to her other leg now, but she couldn't figure out what was happening. And then a burst of pain in her side had her choking on the scream that her throat couldn't form.

A solid blow to the side of her head sent her dropping back into oblivion. She tried to fight it, convinced she could hear Magnum calling to her. But his voice faded away, and so did her grip on reality.

The flash didn't make the slightest impression on her at all.

...

The fifth morning saw Magnum sitting on the sofa, staring at nothing. Between them, he and Rick and T.C. had run down every lead they could think of. Followed up on every tip that Rick's contacts had passed along. Worked through every connection, no matter how flimsy. HPD hadn't been sitting idly by either, with three arrests having been made since Higgins had been snatched thanks to their investigation into her disappearance. But all for unrelated offenses. The search for Juliet had hit a roadblock, and no one knew how to get over it.

He had felt like this before; stuck in solitary in the Korengal for over a week, he had become convinced that he was never going to escape.

_'You were wrong then and you're wrong now,' _he told himself as firmly as he could. He was distracted by Rick hurrying in, Katsumoto behind him.

"Listen to this. I picked it up this morning." And Rick pressed his phone without any attempt to explain. A voicemail started playing.

_"Listen, man. Word is you and your buddies are looking for something this Ono character took. I'm sure you already know about the doctor. I'm just calling to tell you that's all I know too. So don't be showing up here expecting info." _

"What doctor?" Magnum asked, looking to Katsumoto.

The detective shrugged and shook his head. "We don't know yet. I've got every available man working on it. I thought you might like to do the same on your end." He paused, as if searching for the right words. "I'm officially giving you permission to work this. I'm going to talk to Ono's lawyer, Mr. Dion. I want you to come with me and chat with his assistant while I'm in there getting stonewalled."

With Magnum driving, it didn't take long for the pair to reach the law offices of Dion, 'Akamu, and Hale. Katsumoto was shown into Dion's office with a speed that suggested he had been expected, and Magnum was left alone in the outer office. Dion's assistant was an attractive young woman whose nameplate, ending in a string of academic letters, suggested she was grossly overqualified for her position.

She threw more than one appreciative glance Magnum's way while he pondered an appropriate opening line.

"Can I get you a coffee?" Her voice broke in on him. "It's a warm day, and you might be here a while. Mr. Dion doesn't care much for your friend."

Bingo! Magnum moved to sit next to her desk while she filled a cup for him, and, within minutes, she had abandoned all pretense of working in favor of badmouthing her boss who, it transpired, she thought was a 'grade A creep who only represents people as foul as he is.'

Magnum barely had to say anything. He mentioned the ongoing investigation into Ono and the woman, Luana, shuddered.

"I always try to make an excuse to leave early when he's scheduled to come in. I don't like being in the same room as him."

"What about his friend? The doctor? I hear he's even worse." Keeping his voice casual was a hard task, but Magnum was good. He didn't detect the slightest flicker in his own voice.

"Oh, you mean Keeple? There's something odd about him too."

Magnum could have cheered. By the time Katsumoto walked out of Dion's office, looking frustrated and furious, Magnum had Dr. Keeple's home address and the address of the private mental institution he ran safely tucked away in his phone.

Katsumoto called the name in as soon as they were out of the building, with orders for any information to be relayed to him as soon as it was dug up. His cell rang before they even reached the parking lot. He listened intently, his face grim, turning to Magnum before the call ended.

"Turns out the real Dr. Keeple is 86 years old and living in Spain." He held up a hand as Magnum opened his mouth to say something. "Good, I'm on my way back." He started walking again, Magnum following after him, as he ended the call. "Two officers are on their way to bring this guy in."

The photo came through as they were headed back to HPD, Katsumoto deciding to stick with the Ferrari and collect his own car from Robin's Nest later. He tried to be casual as he pulled Magnum's cell out of his pocket, but it would have taken someone far less observant than Magnum to miss the look on Katsumoto's face as he looked at the screen.

Magnum very carefully didn't ask, preferring to focus on not crashing as he pushed the very limits of 'safe driving.' But as soon as he pulled up to the curb outside the station, he held out his hand.

Katsumoto took one look at his face and handed the phone over without a word.

Higgins' entire body was visible, and Magnum immediately noticed her wrists were no longer tied, as if whoever was holding her was no longer worried about her trying to get away. She was sprawled on her stomach, and the side of her face he could see was dark red with blood. It looked like the skin just in her hairline had been split and left to bleed. He could see marks on her wrists left by the restraints and a dark mark on the side of her blouse reminded him of the reopened knife wound. He had no doubt there were more injuries that weren't shown on the photo, and he felt his heart clench at the thought.

"We're running out of time," he managed to get out past the anger in his chest.

Katsumoto didn't bother trying to think of the right words to respond, and the two walked into the police station in a tense silence.

When Keeple was brought in, Katsumoto didn't waste any time with niceties. He threw a picture of Higgins on the interrogation room table and stood, glaring at the man in front of him. "Tell me where she is, right now. Or I'll see to it you never see the sun again."

The man gave a grin. "She's in the best place. Not that you'll ever find her."

Katsumoto dropped his hands to the table and opened his mouth, but the man spoke again. "I want my lawyer now."

A dull thudding sound made them both jump as someone banged on the glass, and Katsumoto hurried out of the room to see Magnum leaving the observation room.

"She's in his clinic." His voice was so full of certainty that Katsumoto didn't even question him until they were already back in the Ferrari.

"How can you know that, Magnum? We could be wasting valuable time." Magnum didn't quite roll his eyes, but Katsumoto was pretty sure that was only because he was currently speeding.

"What's the first thing you say to someone who's worried about the health of a patient? 'They're in the best place for them.' That smug jerk told us where she is and thought we wouldn't get it."

...

Magnum took the steps two at a time and rushed through the doors, not even really caring if Katsumoto could keep up with him. The only reason he didn't flat-out run was because he knew a police badge would stand a better chance of getting the staff to cooperate than a few broken bones, and it would be a lot easier to find Higgins if someone could point the way to whatever room she was being held in. He came up short at the check-in desk, a locked and solid-looking gate blocking access to the clinic proper.

"Can you find a patient's room?" He was close to snapping the words and really didn't appreciate the look the security guard - Magnum noted in some odd, detached part of his brain the name tag said A.B. Culver - gave him.

Katsumoto came up beside Magnum, his badge already in his hand, and the guard's expression changed from insolent to wary.

"One of your patients is being held here illegally. Juliet Higgins. We need her room number." Katsumoto sounded calm and professional, and Magnum took a breath as he watched the guard's fingers click over the keyboard in front of him. Whatever Culver saw on the screen didn't make him happy. He looked at the two men with something approaching fear in his eyes.

"I don't have any record of a patient by that name ever being treated here." Culver kept his eyes on Katsumoto, worried that the intense-looking man with the disturbingly bright aloha shirt was on the wrong side of the gate. "Could she have been registered under a different name?" He was just trying to be helpful, really, and didn't think his suggestion warranted the exaggerated sigh it received from the possibly unstable guy opposite him.

"Of course she is," Magnum groaned, his tone of voice saying this was really really bad news. "If she's even in the system and hasn't been dumped in a storeroom somewhere!"

Something sparked in Culver's mind. His job really wasn't all that interesting and, as a result, he paid more attention than people might have suspected to what was going on around him. "What about a basement?" Two sets of eyes bore down on him, and he nearly took a step back. "It's just that, uh…" He licked his lips nervously. "There used to be treatment rooms downstairs, decades ago. It's all just storage now, but I've seen one of the doctors heading down there a few times these last few days."

Magnum and Katsumoto shared a look, and Katsumoto's face grew impossibly more severe. He leaned on the desk, making sure his badge was still visible between his fingers. "We need to see that basement."

A buzz was the only response as Culver hit the lock release and let them in. He didn't even bother to call someone to come and watch the desk; he had a feeling that visitors being unable to sign in would seem pretty inconsequential by the end of the day.

The air that hit them as the heavy door was dragged open was cold and damp. The basement had been dug out back when the building was still an asylum, the cost covered by the state, and the treatment methods still more brutal than helpful. Even before the asylum had been closed, the subterranean rooms had fallen into disuse. Now they didn't even have electricity.

Culver had made them wait while he grabbed his flashlight and, as he led them down the stairs, offered some explanation about cutting circuits to cut costs. Magnum wasn't paying much attention; he could see his breath misting in the feeble light of the flashlight. An image popped into his mind, the thin pants and blouse Higgins had been wearing when she had been grabbed, and he was too busy wondering if Keeple would have bothered to give Higgins a blanket to care about why the lights weren't working.

He could feel the moisture in the air clinging to his throat and catching in his chest. It got worse the deeper they went. He was sure he wouldn't even want to spend even a few hours here; the idea of Higgins being trapped down in the dark and damp for nearly a week made him feel a dangerous kind of anger. He hadn't felt it since he'd pulled open the ambulance doors and seen Nuzo's bloody body in front of him. At least then he had been able to focus on Lara and Jake, on the investigation, on finding the people responsible. But the man who had taken Higgins was already sitting in a jail cell. Magnum didn't want to dwell on what would happen if a similar sight met his eyes this time, with nothing to distract him from what had been done, what had been taken from him.

"This is the old hydrotherapy room," Culver said as they finally reached the end of the passageway. He was fumbling with a bunch of keys, and Magnum had to step down hard on his impatience.

'_So close,'_ he told himself, '_you're so close. Just a few more seconds.'_

"The rest of the rooms are full of stuff; you'd never be able to keep someone in them. But this room is still pretty empty." There was a quiet click as the key turned in the lock. "That's weird. It's so damp down here the locks rust. I wasn't sure it would open." Culver sounded genuinely confused, like he hadn't actually expected to be right, but Magnum knew what it meant; someone had opened the door recently, probably more than once. He glanced to his left and could see Katsumoto had the same thought.

"We'll take it from here, thank you." Katsumoto put a hand on Culver's shoulder to pull him away from the door. Magnum just pushed past him and hurried into the room. He pulled up short as he realized Culver was still holding their only flashlight and he couldn't see. He dragged his cell out of his pocket, cursing the seconds it wasted. He didn't bother to look over his shoulder to see if Katsumoto had thought to grab his own phone, just headed deeper into the room.

"Higgy?" he called, hating the way the echo that bounced back distorted his voice. "Higgins?" Something caught his eye, a flash of white, and he nearly dropped his cell as he ran. She was huddled in the very corner of the room, knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Whether she was trying to keep warm or protect herself he didn't know, but he did know that seeing her looking so small was horrific. Her feet were bare and her blouse still hung open. The right sleeve had been pushed up over her elbow and he knew, if he looked, he would find pinprick bruises in the crook of her arm. The clothes were clinging to her, the damp from the air having soaked the fibers, and she was so very still.

He didn't notice Katsumoto coming up behind him, then turning and sprinting out of the room. He didn't even hear Culver yell as he turned and took off after the detective. Magnum dropped to his knees, letting his phone drop to the floor as he reached out with both hands, begging whatever power might happen to be listening to just please let her have a pulse.

It took seconds to find, seconds in which Magnum felt his heart falter in his chest. Higgins was so cold, skin that should have been radiating warmth instead cold enough to make his fingers ache.

"Oh please," he breathed, pressing down hard against the side of her neck. And there it was, a delicate flutter beneath his fingers. He took a fraction of a second, the length of a heartbeat, to swallow down the emotional turmoil that was threatening to swamp him, then started trying to get Higgins to wake up. The tiny sigh she gave as he tapped gently at her cheek nearly broke his heart. She shifted, wincing as she did, turning her head to face him.

"Come on, Juliet. Open your eyes." Magnum could hear the plea in his own voice and knew if she was actually awake she would never let him forget it. He thought he would be perfectly willing to have her make fun of him and his begging if she would just wake up. Her eyes were fluttering slightly, and it seemed to be taking a lot of effort. "That's it. You can do it, girl." He kept patting her cheek, hoping it was helping. They always did it in movies, after all.

"Magnum?" Her voice was so quiet it was barely more than a sigh, and Magnum couldn't hold back his own huff as the relief crashed through his system in a dizzying rush. Her eyes opened, heavy lidded and unfocused and seemingly too sensitive even for the dim light thrown off by his cell, but they still managed to find him.

She looked up blearily, a wary expression spreading over her face even her eyelids started to drop again. "Are you real?" Her voice was still hardly more than a breathy whisper. "I can't tell anymore." She sounded near tears, and Magnum felt like he had been punched in the chest. She reached out a hesitant hand, only managing to lift it a few inches, but it was enough.

Magnum grabbed it and pulled it to his chest. He pressed down hard and watched Higgins' eyes drift closed as she felt the beating heart beneath her fingers. Her shoulders twitched, and he thought she was going to cry. Instead, she was caught by a coughing fit that dragged at her breath and seemed to pull at her throat.

Magnum lifted her off the floor and pulled her close, holding her tightly against his chest, rubbing her back as the coughing went on and on. When she finally managed to stop, she was gasping for breath, an ugly, choking sound that bounced off the walls. She sagged against him only to whimper and try to pull away.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Magnum kept his voice low and kept one hand wrapped carefully around Higgins to stop her sinking back to the floor as his other hand slowly lifted the side of her ruined blouse. A bruise, deep purple and ringed in red, was spread across the left side of her back. Even in the inadequate light, Magnum could see it was the shape of a shoe print, and his eyes closed as a surge of anger rolled through his gut. The possibility of broken ribs flashed into his mind, and he realized he was going to have to wait for EMTs to get Higgins out of this dank little dungeon room.

...

"Four days." Magnum knew he was talking to himself, Higgins having fallen asleep not long after he'd gotten her settled in the Ferrari's passenger seat. She was still on strong antibiotics for the chest infection she'd developed after her six days in the damp and cold, but her doctor had finally decided pneumonia wasn't an issue and discharged her that morning. "Four days in a hospital bed, and you can't even stay awake while I drive you home." He made sure to keep his voice light and teasing, hoping she was only dozing and could still hear him. At the next red light, he glanced over at her, but her eyes were closed and she looked to be deeply asleep.

Even as Magnum's cell rang, Higgins didn't react.

"Okay, T.M.," Rick's voice rang out over the car's speaker. "We picked up Higgy's prescription and a couple cans of soup."

"Soup?"

"Rick insisted our girl needs chicken soup." T.C. sounded amused, and Magnum smirked.

He looked over at Higgins again, hoping she would have something to say about the prospect of spending the next few days eating nothing but canned chicken soup, but she just gave a small sigh and shifted her head.

"I'm sure, if she was awake, she'd thank you. I'll see you both at Robin's." It didn't take long to reach the estate, even with the rain making people drive slower than normal. Halfway along the road leading to the gates, Magnum caught sight of T.C.'s van in his mirror and grinned; his friends had camped out with him in Higgins' hospital room over the last few days, and he had been grateful for them every hour while they had all waited anxiously to see how her lungs would cope with the infection that had settled in her chest.

By the time the gates were open, the van had caught up to the Ferrari and stuck with him as he drove up to the building.

"Higgins? We're home." He kept his voice fairly quiet, thinking it would probably be smart to avoid startling her, but she didn't wake up. He tried shaking her shoulder, tensed to jerk his hand away, worried that her training would kick in before she woke up properly and he would end up getting a black eye. She didn't even stir, and he frowned at her.

"What on earth did they give you?" he muttered to himself, shaking his head a little. The doctor had said it was a mild painkiller to help her deal with the drive, not a sedative. He climbed out of the car and hurried around to the passenger side, frown deepening as the rain caught him full-force in the face. It was cold enough to make him shiver, and he didn't like the idea of dragging Higgins out in it. But his only other option was leaving her in the car.

He laid a hand on her shoulder to try to wake her again once he'd opened the door, but his eyes landed on the bruises on her throat. He remembered the awful bruise on her back and knew from the little he had seen of her charts that there were more bruises scattered across her body. Shaking her suddenly felt cruel.

"C'mon," he muttered quietly, gently lifting her arms and hoping she would respond. "Wrap your arms around my neck. There you go." He slipped his hands beneath her, easily lifting her weight, and held her close. She gave a quiet hum of displeasure as the rain hit her and shifted slightly, turning her head to hide her face against his chest. He stood for a second to make sure she wasn't going to keep moving, worried he would drop her, but she was still. He turned to see his friends behind him, T.C. already holding Higgins' bag and Rick wrestling with the largest umbrella Magnum had ever seen.

"Do you have her keys?" T.C. held out his hand expectantly, but Magnum shook his head.

"I'll take her to the guest house. I don't want to put her in the main building on her own." What he meant was that he didn't want to be too far away from her. Didn't want to intrude on her privacy by barging into her bedroom when she hadn't invited him. Didn't want her to wake up in a guest room where she might be disoriented. He wasn't sure how many of the unspoken words T.C. heard, but it must have been enough. His friend gave him an understanding look before heading toward the guest house to open the door.

Magnum knew there was a flaw in his logic; if he was worried about her being confused when she woke up, then it would make more sense to put her in the main house, where she spent more time. He even knew from experience how comfortable the sofa in the sitting room was, so it wasn't her comfort he was worried about. As he walked slowly and carefully around the side of the main house, Rick holding the umbrella at an awkward angle to shield Higgins from the downpour that was quickly becoming icy, Magnum tried to tell himself that he was thinking strategically. The guest house was smaller, less entry points, easier to defend. And he wanted to keep Higgins safe.

That was the crux of the matter. He looked down at her, face still buried in his chest, hands warm on his neck, and realized he would do anything to protect her. Not that she really needed help in that respect; that had been made perfectly clear over and over again. But he couldn't help the feeling that was surging through him, telling him he shouldn't even put her down. He should keep her in his arms, keep her close, keep her safe.

He made a deal with himself as he walked through the door of the guest house; he wasn't going to waste any more time. As soon as she was awake (and coherent enough to understand what he was saying), he was going to tell her exactly how he felt. He was pretty sure she felt the same and couldn't for the life of him remember now why they had been tiptoeing around each other for so long. He had come so close to losing her, and that idea scared him far more than any thoughts of 'it might end badly' ever had.


End file.
